SYOT: 164th Annual Hunger Games (AU)
by AlisonBlock
Summary: The Earth as we know it has changed. To prevent another wars and rebellions against the ruler state, Canada, every year are held official Hunger Games. From each continent are together reaped 48 tributes, 24 males and 24 females. AU OPEN!SYOT Hunger Games. Extended summary inside.
1. Anouncement

Extended Summary: The Earth as we know it has changed. To prevent another wars and rebellions against the ruler state, Canada, every year are held official Hunger Games. From each continent are together reaped 48 tributes, 24 males and 24 females. United States and Europe as former rebellion continents are each obligated to choose six states where the reapings will be held, while Australia, Africa, Asia and South America, each have to choose only three states. Every chosen state then has to reap one corageous young man and woman for the honor of representing annual Hunger Games.

* * *

**—Canada—**

_Ottawa, 11:45 a.m._

Almost every citizen of the state Canada was now currently standing on a town square, eagerly looking at the empty podium, where should the president appear in few minutes to announce which states are going to compete in this year's 164th annual hunger games.

_Meanwhile in President Mansion_

President Gillian Pulman was circling around the room, waiting for the Head Gamemaker. Her golden high-heels made a clapping sound that filled the silent room. She stopped as she approached the mirror and eyed herself from head to toe. Her raven black hair were tighed in a high ponytail and big circle earrings hung from her ears. She wore yellow golden sleeevless dress that matched her tanned skin. Gillian's lips pursed into a pleased smile and moved her sight away from the mirror as she heard the familiar footsteps.

"Head Gamemaker Eddie Noel." She greeted him, nodding her head and pointing at wooden chair for him to sit.

"President Pulman. You wished to see me?" He phrased a question as he sat on the pointed place.

"Ah yes, I was wondering how are our arena preparations going?" Gillian, raised her hand and looked at her wristwatch. In ten minutes she's supposed to be at the town square.

"It couldn't be better. As every year we will have a twist in the arena and-" He didn't finish, because he was interrupted by the raven haired beauty.

"Pardon me, Eddie. I have an announcement to make," she pointed at the window, "I did not realize the time when I called for you, my mistake. We shall continue this discussion later."

_Back at the Town Square_

Loud voices of Canadian citizens were suddenly interrupted by strong and deep voice coming from the center of town square where the podium was.

"Welcome, welcome. It's lovely to see all of you." President Gillian said with a bright smile on her lips which gave her a loud applause from the citizens.

"Now," she continued after they all silenced, "the reason why we're all here. For this year's annual hunger games, we've decided for these states. From North America, we shall recieve tributes from New York City, Los Angeles, Las Vegas, New Mexico, California and Hawaii." She paused for a while, giving the citizens time to process the new information. New York was an obvious choice, it competed in Hunger Games almost every year. Same goes for Los Angeles and Las Vegas. California was a bit rarer, but it still wasn't that much surprising. Mexico competed few times, but Hawaii was a news for every one. This is the first time this island will participate in Hunger Games.

"From South America, we will have Brazil, Colombia and Argentina." Not much of a surprise, these three were usual choice for South America.

"From Europe, we've decided for Russia, France, England, Spain, Italy and Sweden." Several sighs came from the audiance, disappointed that Germany, Portugal or their other favourite countries weren't going to participate. Even though, everyone cheered for England and France, those two were certainly going to be favorits.

"From Africa, there will be tributes from Egypt, Turkey and Kenya." Egypt and Turkey were also common countries that competed in Hunger Games when it came to Africa.

"As for Asia, we will have China, India and Japan." Also, very common countries.

"Last, we have here Australia and Oceania. Naturally Australia will compete, New Zealand and finally an island called Fiji." Well, there weren't many options anyways. President Pulman watched the crowd with satisfied expression on her face. Oh yes, this year it's going to be big.

* * *

_AN: I hope it wasn't too confusing, please, please join this SYOT. It will have 48 tributes, one female and one male tribute from each state. In case you didn't catch all of those states, here's recap:_

Europe: Russia (I decided to put Russia in Europe section instead of Asia section, I hope it doesn't disturb anyone), France, England, Spain, Italy, Sweden  
sia: China, India, Japan  
Africa: Egypt, Turkey, Kenya  
Australia and Oceania: Australia, New Zealand, Fiji  
North America: California, Hawaii, New Mexico, New York, Los Angeles, Las Vegas  
South America: Brazil, Colombia, Argentina

TRIBUTE FORM: ((There will be 48 tributes, so I am going to need at least 10 bloodbath tributes. If you wish to sign a bloodbath tribute all you need to do is PM me their name, state, gender and a slight description of their appearance))  
Regular Tribute Form ↓↓↓

_-Basic-_

State (Pick one of the 24 mentioned states):

Name (Please, take in consideration the state that your tribute comes from. So no, an Indian male tribute can't be named John. If you don't have any ideas, contact me or use Google.):

Gender:

Age (Lowest possible age is 10, highest possible age is 20):

Reaped or Volunteered?

Family (Relation, age, name, appearance...):

Friends (Name, age, appearance...):

_-Appearance-_

Body Type (Slender, muscular, curvy...):

Hair colour:

Hair lenght (Short, shoulder-lenght, half back-lenght...):

Hair texture (Curly, straight, wavy...):

Eye colour:

Eye shape (Any special shape or feature?):

Scars:

_-Personality-_

Traits to describe them:

Strenghts (4-5):

Weaknesses (3-4):

_-Before Hunger Games-_

Which stations do they practise at, during training?

Who do they hang out with? (Alone, District partner, larger group of allies...)

Interview angle (Dangerous, sexy, smart, cocky...):

Are they opened to alliances?

Are they opened to romance?

_-Arena-_

How do they act in the first moments of Hunger Games? (Do they grab something and run away, do they go for center, do they wait for their allies...?)

Strategy in arena:

_-Other-_

Anything else you need to say about your tribute that I didn't mention?


	2. Tribute List

**AN: Here's the list of tributes, many spots are opened, feel free to submit tributes. For every female tribute you get 50 sponzor points, for every male tribute you get 80 sponzor points. Enjoy :)**

**AN (12.9.2014): I noticed I've made a mistake by putting Turkey into an Africa section, since Turkey is in Asia, please do forgive me this wrong and let's pretend that in this future Turkey has been placed in Africa for better international relationships :) Or whatever else you can think of.**

**AN (15.9.2014) C'mon people, only six spots left (not counting the reserved ones) ^^ We're getting closer and closer to finally**

**AN (17.9.2014) Aaand we have all spots filled + one reserved. Thank you everyone who submitted, tomorrow I will post the sponsorship points and all that. I've already started writing the reapings, so I hope I will have it all done in a week. I promise to try my best, really.**

* * *

**Okay, I'm really sorry about the constant updating, I just wanted to let you know that now we have all spots filled and I plan to post the first part of reapings in the next few days. I hope you are not annoyed by me yet and thank you for all your support, you are all great!**

* * *

**Europe**

Russia female: Valeryia Karkarova

Russia male: Daniil Ozera

France female: Camille Martin

France male: Arthur Harro

England female: Emma Fisher

England male: James Randor

Spain female: Belle Lara-Urbana Elecroix

Spain male: Arridi Nordal

Italy female: Ryanne "Ry" Bello

Italy male: Gabriele "Lele" Visconti

Sweden female: Anna Evelyn Christianson

Sweden male: Stefan Falkberg

**Asia**

China female: Meifeng Liu

China male: Quant-Ha Oki

India female: Riya Karma

India male: Kaia Naku

Japan female: Tsubaki Setsui

Japan male: Junichi Taira

**Africa**

Egypt female: Layla Khepri Chione

Egypt male: Akil Massri

Turkey female: Ayla Acksoy

Turkey male: Ozan Balik

Kenya female: Adiah Arzu

Kenya male: Kiano Wambua Thabiti

**Australia and Oceania**

Australia female: Vera Bellevue

Australia male: Rhys Nashua

New Zealand female: Pia Hollowbrooke

New Zealand male: Kauri Pintoln

Fiji female: Isabella Huggett

Fiji male: Noah Petrelli

**North America**

California female: Samantha Berkins

California male: Calder Matthews

Hawaii female: Emalee Azure

Hawaii male: Mitchell Henry Christiansen

Mexico female: Serena Ortega

Mexico male: Jonathan "Jon" Alder

New York female: Natalie Wilson

New York male: Christopher Donnelly

Las Vegas female: Paris Vega

Las Vegas male: Loren Nadeau II

Los Angeles female: Arden Villa

Los Angeles male: Matthew Williams

**South America**

Brazil female: Iara Santos

Brazil male: Neymar Santos

Colombia female: Paula Vergara

Colombia male: Lazarillo Puñal

Argentina female: Noelle Nottingham

Argentina male: Sebastian Russo


	3. Pre-Reapings: Europe

**First, a general announcement for those who would like to submit!**

There are no free tributes spots, unfortunately. BUT, I always welcome submissions of stylists, gamemakers, escorts and etc. If you wish so, there's a little form at the end of this chapter which you can fill and send it to me.

**Now a true Author's Note.**

I did it! Oh my god, I actually finished this! I am so sorry for keeping you wait this longer, but my personal life comes first and I had to deal with that. Now, about this SYOT. These are the European pre-reapings. I included only half of the European tributes, but no worries, the other half will also have a separate chapter. Enjoy?

* * *

**Valeriya Karkarova, Russia**

_Oh, Mickey, what a pity you don't understand._

Loud song coming out of the alarm clock made Valeriya frown, even though it didn't stop her from covering her ears with lavender pillows, trying to ignore the music.

_You take me by the heart, when you take me by the hand._

The russian blonde growled and shut the alarm clock with her hand pale, from not getting enough sun this year. She rubbed her tired eyes and looked around her room, blinking for a bit. The room was burried in darkness as the high curtains refused to let any sign of sun in. Valeriya stood up and drew the curtains. She glanced at the small digital numbers on her DVD player. 5:30 a.m.. She could have slept an hour longer if she wished so, but the blonde had other plans for the morning. It was the day of the reapings and in case she would be reaped, she gotta enjoy the morning as much as she can. Of course, there were talks between the girls of how they are going to volunteer this year and bring pride to their state and blah blah blah. Valeriya knew better. The popular ones, or the ones that crave attention would always talk about volunteering to gain respect and admiration. When it came to the real reapings, all of them held their mouth shutted, praying they won't be picked.

_How pathetic._ Valeriya thought and opened the window, allowing the cold air of the morning enter her room. After few seconds, small shivers on her arm appeared and she was forced to grab the warm blanket and wrap it around herself. She went to her dressing table and pushed it aside a little. Lowering her body into a squat position, from the very behind of the wooden shelves she picked a bottle of red wine. As she grabbed the bottle neck, a familiar grin emerged on her lips. Her free hand travelled further, until it hit the burgundy glass. Rising up, she moved the dressing table back to its place and poured herself a glass of the fine wine. Normally she wasn't much of a drinker, but this was a special occasion. Her life as she knows it might end in the next few hours.

The sound of light footsteps and creaky floor made Valeriya drop her glass in a fright. It landed on a persian rug and even though the glass didn't appear to be damaged, her white rug will always be marked by the red wine.

"It's fine. Just me." A tall figure with messy brown hair entered her room and raised her both hands in a reassuring gesture. Valeriya sighed in a relief, once she realized it's only her two years younger sister and pointed for her to come in.

Anastasia, or Ana as she liked to be called, was sixteen years old and she looked awful lot like her sister. The two of them had the same colour of grey eyes and slightly pointed small nose. The only difference between them was their height and Ana's curly brown hair cutted to her shoulders. Anastasia wore oversized black shirt with logo of My Chemical Romance and orange thigh stockings.

"Valeri?" Ana asked in a playful voice and pointed with her hand at the huge dirt on the expensive rug.

"Yebať." She cursed in russian once she noticed it. "I mean, fuck it." She repeated in her strong accent, when she realized she is not supposed to speak in her native language. Even though they weren't on public, she didn't want to risk getting in trouble with Peacekeepers. If it was a normal day, she would have spoken no other language than russian. Everyone spoke russian on a normal day. But on the day of the reapings, the streets are filled with peacekeepers, they are everywhere and they hear everything. It's their job after all.

Ana led out a chuckle and she sat down on the floor. Valeri joined her and reached for the bottle of red wine. She took a sip and then handed it to her sister. The two of them shared the true sisterly bond. Even though Valeriya didn't like to see her sister drink, she couldn't judge her. She gotten herself drunk when she was 14 and her younger sister covered for her without a second blink.

"Are Tina and Navid still together? I saw them yesterday at school and they acted as if they didn't even know each other. It was really weird." Ana asked after she finished her sip. Valeriya couldn't help it, but smiled. This was what she loved about her sister. She didn't ask her the same question everyone has been asking everyone for the past month. ‚Are you prepared for the Hunger Games?' ‚How are you feeling?' ‚It sucks we have to go through this every year.' No. Ana was different. She acted as if it was just another ordinary day and Valeri was grateful for that.

"They broke up a week ago. I thought you knew." Valeriya replied with a shrug. The two sisters continued gossiping and talking about their friends, potentional future boyfriends, enemies and so on.

**Camille Martin, France**

Camille twirled in front of the mirror and smiled at her reflection. She looked nice. Her white sheath dress complimented her tanned skin and skiny body. No, not skinny. This dress made her look slender and elegant.

"Camille, could you please get out?" Manon, her younger 13 years old sister bumped on the door with her small fists. In their family they had a tradition that the oldest go first. Therefore her parents and older sister Laila were already dressed up and ready to leave. Camille smirked to her reflection and shouted back.

"Just a minute." Manon recognized the lie the minute Camille said it. Camille has always spent the largest amount of time in the bathroom.

She reached for the silver eye shadows and carefully put it on her eyelids. She considered herself pretty, although she would have never admitted it because she wouldn't have wanted to look shallow.

Outside of the bathroom, Manon was tapping her foot nervously. She had shoulder-lenght brown hair that now looked messy from the night and pink nightgown with dotted ankle socks. After minutes of waiting, the door had finally opened and Camille, now fully dressed with perfect make-up on her face walked out of the bathroom into. She looked ravishing and if it wasn't for the waiting, Manon would have even complimented her sister.

Camille walked into the kitchen with smile on her red lips and seated herself beside the kitchen table. Laila was sitting in front of her, her raven hair wrapped into a high ponytail and her glasses with red frame matched her blouse with black high-waist skirt. She looked very bussiness-like and for a moment Camille was envious of her older sister.

"You want blackberries? They are truly wonderful, Anthony brought them to me yesterday." Anthony was a son of the mayor and their family grew vegetables and fruits. Corners of Camille's lips curved into a small smile. Laila and Anthony had been best friends since the primary school and it was obvious he has a huge crush on her. Well, it was obvious to everyone except for Laila herself. Camille opened her mouth to respond, but she was interrupted by a loud noise coming from her phone. She reached for it and saw she has an unread message.

"Who's texting?" Laila asked with her mouth full of blackberries. Camille thought she looked really funny when she talked with full mouth, but never said a thing.

_Remember that the reapings start at 8 a.m. ;)_

Camille read the message and answered to her sister that it's just Axel. She chuckled as it brought a certain memory to her.

_"Camille, are you sure we should be doing this? Reapings will start soon and we do /not/ want to get in trouble with Peacekeepers." Oceane, Camille's red-haired best friend complained as they ascended by each three best friends, Oceane, Camille and Axel, decided to do something before the Reapings, so they went for a walk. It was only a 15 minutes walk, but once they reached the apex, the view was priceless. The area was surrounded by green and you could see the entire city from there._

_"Chill, we still have an hour till the reapings." Camille and the two sat on the grass, enjoying the atmosphere. Camille brushed off her sweated hair of her forehead. _

_"Really? What time is it?" Axel shot her unbelieving look._

_"It's 8 a.m.." She stated as she glanced at her wristwatch and streched herself._

_"8 a.m.?" Axel stood up angrily and Oceane facepalmed herself._

_"Yea, what's wrong?" Camille didn't understand their behaviour._

_"Okay, when exactly do you think the reapings start?" Axel asked her slowly, looking at her._

_"9 a.m.. Duh." Camille responded as she was gently being pulled on her feet by Axel. Oceane chuckled lightly._

_"Darling, I don't know on which planet you live, but here it starts at 8 a.m.." Oceane explains as the three of them rush down the hill. _

Fortunately, they weren't too late, however they've had to deal with the angry glares of Peacekeepers for the rest of the day. Now they laugh about it, but that time they were actually scared as hell. Not arriving on the time, meant dishonor and dishonor is highly punished. Especially on the day when the entire Hunger Games process starts.

**James Radnor, England**

James looked around the center of London and sighed heavily. It was almost 9 a.m., therefore all of the english teenagers of ages from 10 to 20 were already there. Most of them were formally dressed and if this was a different situation, James would surely enjoy the town square filled with short dresses and high-heels.

"Urgh, how long is this going to take?" The sound of Diana's voice brought him back from his thoughts. She was bumping her red high-heel in an annoyance and James couldn't help but be amused by her. Diana was 18, therefore still legible for the Hunger Games and she had one of the most impatient personalities that James has ever encountered. The two of them have been standing in a row for nearly an hour. Even though the Reapings are to be started at 8 a.m., it takes something about 2 hours for all of the children to identify themselves and confirm their presence, therefore the true reapings with crazy styled escort, movie about the rebellion, papers with the names of tributes and all this items don't start before 10 a.m.

"Well if somebody came earlier, we wouldn't have to wait so long." James smirked at her, making an impact on the word somebody.

"Do you have an idea how long does it take for us girls to prepare? We have to pick the right dress, matching shoes and accessories, fitting make-up, style our hair and everything. What do you do? You put on a fresh shirt and you're done." Diana responded, half-jokingly. What she said was truth, though. James didn't have to worry about hair, since he woke up with his messy, swept up hairstyle and since he was a boy, he didn't have to think about make-up or anything of that sort.

"Whatevs. I should have gone with Evan, he's already standing in his section with his peers." He glanced at the section with 20 years olds, where he saw his second best friend talking to someone James didn't know.

"You wouldn't do that to me!" Diana's eyes widened and she covered her mouth in a fake worry.

"Of course not, my lovely best friend." James chuckled at her and tousled her hair with his hand. She growled at him and quickly started to fix her perfectly straighted blonde hair.

"Sometimes I really hate you." Diana stated and smiled at him, which made him know that she wasn't mad at him for real.

"Next!" Loud voice of a creepy Peacekeeper drew them away from their conversation as they realised they are already in.

"Sorry." Diana quickly apologized and announced her name to the Peacekeeper. After she was done, she glanced for the last time at James and made her way to the section of 18 years olds.

"James Randor, 19 years old." The Peacekeeper held out a paper with his name and James signed himself on it. He continued to his age section and went to stand next to some short geeky boy. _Well, that one wouldn't last much in the Hunger Games, _he thought for himself. James was the type who thought way too highly of himself and therefore even though he didn't have much practise for the Hunger Games, except for the few times he goes to gym during the week, he was sure that if he got reaped he would stood a fine chance at winning.

**Gabriele 'Lele' Visconti, Italy**

Gabriele, or as he liked to be called- Lele shivered nervously. In few minutes, his life can change from the bottom to top. _You could be reaped._The inner voice in his head told him. _You wouldn't see your family again. You wouldn't see Lorenzo again_. Lele shook his head as if to erase the thought. He couldn't lose his mother, who would breathe for her children if she could, or his sister Adelina, who was like a best friend to him. Even though she was 22 years old, meaning she was 7 years older then him, she understood him they way only few did and she was also the one who gave him the nickname 'Lele'. When he was 4 years old, he tried to pronounce his own name, but no mater how hard he tried, he couldn't say the word Gabriele. Therefore, his sister came up with this nickname for him to use and since then it stuck up with him.

And one person Lele could not lose by any circumstances was Lorenzo, his boyfriend. Since Lele was child, he had a hard time fitting in. His classmates didn't want to interract with him and he often ended up as an outcast of the class. A freak, weirdo, gay. Those were the words everyone shouted at him when he walked past the halls. Fortunately, when he was 12, a new boy had came to their school, a boy who had intimated him from the very beginning. Lele had a crush on that boy and was afraid that he would see him like everyone else in his class did. One could only imagine the surprise in Lele's eyes when the new boy came to Lele and introduced himself to him. The two of them started friendship which slowly turned into something more, something deeper. Besides Lele's family, Lorenzo was the only person Lele could rely on. If it wasn't for Lorenzo to comfort him, when he needed, Lele would have probably comitted suicide already.

"Lele, is everything alright?" Adelina's thin voice brought him back from his thoughts. He looked at his sister and forced a smile on his lips.

"Of course, Ade." He responded, but Adelina didn't seem to look convinced. She knew her younger brother way too good.

"You won't be picked. There will be kids from the entire Italy, there's no way you could be reaped." She put a comforting hand on his shoulder, trying to ease the situation. Adelina was 22 years old and therefore she no longer had to worry for herself about the day of the Reapings, even though she had been always worried more for her brother. The two siblings had wonderful relationship, which couldn't be said about their third, oldest sister. Crystal was their mother's first child, however she is distancing herself from the family for quite some time. She's now 34 and Lele barely remembers her. She cut off all connections from her family and even though they don't talk about her much at home, Lele knows that his sister and especially his mother, will never be able to forget Crystal for abadoning them.

"Yea, I know." Lele smiled again and this time it was more honest. He needed to remind himself over and over that he won't get reaped, otherwise he would have gone crazy already.

**Anna Evelyn Christianson, Sweden**

Anna slowly combed her thick blonde hair. She was sitting with crossed legs on her bed in her room, getting ready for the reapings with her sister Cynthia. Cynthia was 15 years old, therefore two years older than Anna and she had pale skin with blonde hair like Anna's. She was wearing knee-lenght skirt with flowerly pattern that spread into A. She had a light orange top with long sleeves and her hair was styled in a high messy bun. Cynthia twirled around in front of the mirror and admired her appearance.

Anna put her hairbrush down and glanced at her sister. She had always admired Cynthia's beauty and her entire girly appearance.

"So, what do you think?" Cynthia asked as she turned at her sister.

"You look lovely, Cynthia." Anna replied in all honesty and as Cynthia seemed to be pleased with the answer, she danced away from their room, leaving Anna all by herself.

Anna stepped away from her bed and walked to the mirror to look at herself. Her honey blonde hair was now tied in two long braids, revealing her young face. Anna was jealous of her sister that she can wear make-up, while Anna can't. Since she's 13 years old, her parents forbid her from wearing a make-up. Not that she would need it, her face was perfectly clean and soft. She wore long purple dresses that made her look a bit older and white pumps with small stars on them. Anna felt like a princess. This was probably the only good thing about the reapings.

"Anna, are you ready?" Anna quickly turned at the sweet sound of her mother's voice and smiled at her brightly. Even though this wasn't a cheerful day, Anna always had a bright and bubbly personality, therefore not even a sad event like this one could ruin her always high-spirited nature.

"Of course!" Anna kept the smile on her lips, but if you looked closely you could see sadness and worry under all of her sunny attidute. Anna's mother, Maria stood between the doors, her thin lips pursed and blonde hair neated in a wreath around her head. She wore the same serious expression as always, yet she had the graceful aura around herself that made her look like a lady. Even though Anna loved her mother dearly, the two of them were like fire and ice. While Anna was reckless and funny, her mother was cautious and strict.

Maria nodded her head and corners of her lips formed into a small smile, revealing that she was pleased with her daughter's choice of outfit. Maria wore gray pants with matching blazer and white blouse. She will not be able to come to the real reapings, she will be stuck with the rest of the waiting parents and older siblings, stretching their necks to see whether they loved ones did or did not get reaped for the games. Neverthless she wanted to look good and while she wouldn't admit it openly, she was truly worried for both of her daughters. Cynthia was 15 and Anna was 13, both teenagers were egible and while there was slight chance that any of them could be reaped, there was always the risk.

**Belle Lara-Urbana Elecroix, Spain**

"Belle Lara-Urbana Elecroix if you do not come here in five minutes-" Belle heard her mother yell from the downstairs, but she quickly interrupted her.

"Of course mum, I'm almost done!" Now that was by far the greatest lie she had said today. Belle wasn't really into fashion or styling herself for hours as some of her classmates liked to do, but today was a special day. It was a depressive day of the year where two kids, yes, they are all basically still just kids, were chosen for the deadly games for the amusement of all people of Canada. But it was also a social event, an event which required pretty clothes, otherwise it would be considered as insult, treason even. And if she had to dress up, she will do it properly. She already had her hair wrapped in a high ponytail to keep the little strands of her blue hair from falling to her face. However she could not decide whether to put on short black dress or blue tunic with white skirt. As she held those two outfits in her hands, she heard footsteps coming to her room.

"Sister, mother told me to call you for breakfast." Her twin brother Remi bumped into her room and seated himself on the chair.

"You ever heard of knocking? Get out, I'm getting dressed." She glared at him and returned her attention back to her outfits.

"Relax, I'm your brother. You're basically the most unattractive person in this world to me." He stated, which earned him a nasty glare from Belle.

"I said, get out!" She grabed his arm and shoved him from her room, smashing the door in front of his face. She has wonderful realtionship with her brother, but sometimes he's just the most annoying person in this world.

Belle glanced at her wristwatch and quickly grabbed the black dress. She was never fond of high-heels, even though they made the legs look wonderful, so she chose silver pumps that matches her accessories. She ran downstairs and seated herself at the table next to her mother. The smell of pancakes hit her nose and she realized how hungry she was. She grabbed the first perfectly done pancake and spilled large amount of syrup on it.

"They taste absolutely amazing, mum." She said with full mouth as she took a bite. Her brother, who already had eaten his breakfast just laughed at her and she threw a tiny piece of pancake at him. When her brother leaned in to do the same, Giselle, their mother shot both of them a glare.

"How old are you? Five?" She asked in an annoyance. She was a single mother and sometimes it was too much for her to handle the twins.

"She started it!" Remi realized how childlish this sounded, but it was the truth.

"He laughed at me!" Belle replied.

"Enough!" Giselle shouted at both of them and that seemed to silence them. The three of them spent the rest of the breakfast quietly, but that didn't stop Belle from kicking her brother under the table. They were 19 years old, yet somehow they managed to act around each other like they were ten years younger. Even though Belle wouldn't say it out loud, she enjoyed the little fights or disagreements. When you fight with someone, it means you care enough about them to waste the energy on the disagreement. And not caring about each other is the worst thing that can happen to family.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Now I really need your opinion. How did you feel about this chapter? What do you think of each character? Who is by far your most favourite and your last favourite? From these six, who do you think will have the best chance at survival?

**Sponsorship:** If you want to be a sponsor for your character(s), please fill these form and PM it to me.

Your name:

Name of your character(s):

**If you want to submit a character from Capitol, here are the forms:**

**~Stylist or Escort~**

Name:

Age:

Gender:

Assigned country (meaning, who she/he will be stylist of):

Appearance:

Personality:

Bio:

**~Gamemaker~**

Name:

Age:

Gender:

Appearance:

Personality:

Bio:

Ideas for the arena:


	4. Reapings: Asia

_AN: My, I have so many things to tell you. First of all, I'm incredibly sorry for posting the chapter so late. To be honest, I planned on merging the Asian and African reapings together in one chapter, but I wanted to give you something to read, so this chapter is a little bit shorter and I apologize for that. I've been really busy with my life and I had no time for writing, which makes me quite sad, because I really enjoy writing these things and it's only a bonus if you enjoy it too :)_

* * *

**Meifeng Liu, China**

Meifeng Liu stood straightly between the crowd of other 19 years old's. China was always the state that offered biggest amount of possible future tributes. Therefore the main square of Peking, China's capitol city, was more crowded than ever. When she looked around, the most common picture she saw was weak and scared children, trying to look confident. If this was another situation, Meifeng would laugh at their paltriness. However, maybe if Meifeng didn't have the childhood she had, she wouldn't turn into the sour lone-wolf. When she was only 13, the person she was supposed to trust most betrayed her in the brutalest way possible. Once when her mother was out of town, her own father took an advantage on the situation and raped her. After this experience, she stopped trusting people around herself and became focused only on herself. However, she had her revenge. After this incident she knew this would repeat, if she didn't do something. Smart as she was, she killed him and made it look as if he comitted suicide.

"Behold! The 164th annual hunger games!" Deep voice drew Meifeng away from her thoughts. She looked up, only to meet the face filled with face-lifting, botox and tons of make-up layers of the infamous escort Rius Tremble. He wore neon orange suit with green dotted tie and thick reddish wig. Reason why all of the people from Capitol dress up in such ridiculous manner, was a great mystery to Meifeng. She, herself was dressed in short black dresses that ended only an inch above her knees with black pumps on her feet matching her outfit. Her normally straight black hair was now pulled into a tight bun. Even though she was satisfied with her looks, she didn't stand out, like some of her peers.

"This is the moment we've all been waiting for. I hope you're just as excited as I am." Excited was probably a strong word, but unlike most of the children in here, Meifeng wasn't scared at all. She wouldn't volunteer, but she wouldn't cry at night if she got reaped either. She was an assasin and therefore killing wasn't unfamiliar to her. However, she was not a sadist, an assasin was her profession. They payed her, she killed. That's how it worked.

"Now, who should be the lucky one?" The China's escort was gesturing around himself, trying to appear as most dramatic as he could. He walked to the first reaping bowl, running with his finger through the folded papers.

"Silly me, I forgot to add: Ladies first and may the odds be ever in your favor!" He giggled loudly. It was truly laughable, since the only person who appreciated his dramatics was only himself. He picked one tiny paper and unfolded it in his hands.

"Meifeng Liu!" He exclaimed and suddenly, all eyes were on that tiny girl. Meifeng kept her poker face and with slow steps she made her way to the podium. The few ones who knew her, or heard about her led out quiet gasps.

"And now it's time to pick one brave gentleman." Rius continued to the second bowl, without even glancing at Meifeng.

"Quant Ha Oki!" He shouted and the crowd made way for a young boy with wild messy hair, spread into every direction. Quietly he walked to the podium and briefly shook hands with Meifeng. Rius continued talking about what an honor it was, but Meifeng wasn't listening to a word he said.

**Junichi Taira, Japan**

It was a sunny and warm day in Tokio. A day made for a nice walk or a picnic. Not for the reapings for annual hunger games. Taira Junichi was standing in a row between tons of his peers, waiting for the japanese escort to finally announce the beginning of reapings. Junichi already knew he's going to volunteer. After all, he has been preparing for it almost his whole life. He came from a well-known samurai family, descended from the great samurai Taira no Masakado. He along with sister was trained to compete and win in the hunger games. _Embrace their samurai heritage, _as his father liked to say. His father was the infamous Taira Yoshitoki, also known as a man who was preparing his whole life for hunger games, but never got the chance to compete, because when he was 18, 19 and 20, the finest years for volunteering, Japan was not chosen to participate in the games. Therefore, his desire for winning in the hunger games and bringing pride to their family, was left to his children. Junichi's older sister Taira Keikou volunteered three years ago and won. Now it was Junichi's turn to participate in the games.

"Attention, please!" April Lotecka, an escort for Japan, finally made her way on the podium and awkwardly set up her microphone, so it would match her height. She was wearing a black hat blended with her ebony hair and dark red blouse with black leather pants. April was one of the few escorts who actually looked normal, not like those average Capitolans, trying to stand out as much as possible. Junichi remembers that his sister became very fond of April, when she competed.

"I know it's not exactly your favourite day of the year, but it would be much easier if you remained quiet." She took out a pack of small cards from her pocket and started to read the history of hunger games, as usually. Once she was finished, she walked to the first reapings bowl.

"Ladies first. As usual." There was a certain sadness in her voice, however she quickly covered it by modest smile.

"Setsui Tsubaki." What most japanese liked about her, was that she respected their culture of stating the surnames first.

Tiny skinny girl with dark braided hair stepped on to the podium. She didn't look at all like a threat, but if there was one thing that Junichi learned, it was never to judge book by its cover.

When April put her hand in a reaping bowl with male names, Junichi broke the silence, before she managed to pick a name.

"I volunteer as tribute!" April blinked few times and everyone stepped back to make way for him.

"My name is Taira Junichi and I volunteer as tribute." He said in more calm voice. The escort nodded and motioned for him to come to the podium.

**Riya Karma, India**

Riya Karma felt many things as she heard her name being pronounced from the awfuly orange lips of Wes Dentley, an escort for India. Fear, anxiety, curiosity, anger. Mostly anger. Anger targeted towards the Capitol, towards the President, towards gamemakers, towards the escort, towards anyone who has anything to do with the hunger games. However, she suppresses all of those feelings and replaces them with poker face with little flash of confidence. She straightens herself up, flips her chocolate brown hair back and with quiet sound of her white sandals she walkes over to the podium.

"Ladies and gentlemen, Riya Karma!" Riya had to try her best not to laugh. Her name was announced as if she was a mere performer, prepared to amuse the audience. Well, when she thought about it, wasn't that the whole point of hunger games? To amuse the Capitolans and to bring fear between the other states.

Riya looked at the crowd of people. She didn't recognize any familiar face, yet so many people together made her think about the people she leaves. Her mother, with whom she is more close than to anyone, Anya, her younger best friend, whom she considers as more than sister than a friend. Heck, she's going to miss even her father, who spend more time at work than at home.

"Riya, you have something to say to us?" Wes grinned at her widely and passed her the microphone. Unfortunately Wes was not only a horrible looking and extremely annoying, he also always asked the freshly reaped tributes questions about how they felt.

"Well, I think India will have a victor this year." Riya flashed the cameras a confident smile. She was wise and she knew what to do to gain sponzors that will ensure her survival in the arena. The minute her name was reaped, she put on a mask full of confidence and danger. She needed everyone to believe that she has a fine chance at being a victor. Otherwise she can forget about sponzors, good alliance and an eventual victory.

"Oh, I love her! Isn't she amazing?" Wes probably didn't realize that he is in India, not in the Capitol. No one cheered for him, there were just faces full of disgusted expressions. Riya knew that she would most probably wear the same look on her face if she wasn't chosen to fight to death in a deadly arena.

"Aaaalright, I see that many of you have gotten out of the bed on the wrong foot." He chuckled insanly and recieved another collection of disgusted, this time already also annoyed looks. Especially from the male kids, who were waiting for the second tribute. It could be practically anyone of them. However, Riya no longer paid attention to anyone. She didn't even notice that Wes already reached to the reaping bowl and picked the male tribute. The only movement she made towards the other tribute was when they were told to shake their hands. Riya had to focus from now on only and entirely on survival.

* * *

_AN: For answering each question, you will get 5 sponzor points, which you may later use in the arena to provide you favourite tributes with some things._

_\- How do you like this story so far?_

_\- What do you think about Meifeng?_

_\- What do you think about Junichi?_

_\- What do you think about Riya?_


	5. Train Rides: Africa

**AN: Again, so sorry for the wait! I hope you will enjoy this chapter, please tell me what you think.**

* * *

_Layla Khepri Chione, Egypt_

After we got off the platform, we, me and my district partner along with few Peacekeepers to watch out for us, waited for our escort to tell us what's next going to happen. It seems like ages since I screamed the words 'I volunteer', the words that changed by fate forever. Now when I thought about it, I wasn't sure why I did. Sure, I was strong and I could handle a fight even with my eyes closed, but now when I stood in this cold metallic hall that served strictly and only for the hunger games purposes, I felt something that might be described as a hint of fear. Watching the entire process in the television was one thing, but when you actually experience it, it's much more different and much more real. I glanced at my district partner, whose name I had already forgotten. He had short curly hair and skinny figure that was now slightly shaking. I couldn't guess if it was because of fear or because of the coldness that flew from the cold walls. Maybe both. Not that I cared, I didn't volunteer so that I could run around making new besties and such, I volunteered because I'm ready and prepared to win.

"There you are! I almost thought I lost you." I didn't even have to turn around to recognize the overly sweet voice of our escort, who's red wig weighted more than she did.

"I am Lasconca Sarret and I will be your escort for this year's annual Hunger Games!" Sarret's voice was filled with joy and excitement, and for a moment I wondered if it's not because of the fact that after many years she has a volunteer between her tribute pair.

"I assume that you're all familiar with the pre-arena process. If not then listen closely." Lascona flashed us a bright smile and she started walking towards the end of the long aisle. I followed the sound of her silver sandals and my district tribute quickly joined me. I had to quicken my gait to keep up with her.

"Normally you would have a half an hour or so to say goodbyes to your dearests, but unfortunately for you the circumstances and time are pushing us, so we will go straightly to the train station. From there, you will-"

"Wait, we won't have a chance to say goodbyes?" I interrupted her and spat. I am going to be away from my family and friends for Alah knows how long, and this woman dares to forbid us from the chance to say one single fucking goodbye?

"No, you won't." Lasconca replied with lips curved into a sly smile. She was obviously enjoying this.

"You're telling me that I can't even farewell with my parents?" The skinny boy who seems to be my district partner spoke in more loud and firm voice than I expected. Perhaps I shouldn't be underestimating him so much.

"Yes, that's exactly what I'm telling you, my child, please try to keep up." She responded in an annoyed voice.

"Why didn't anyone tell us this?" Akil! Yes, that's his name. Akil Ma-something stopped in his steps and glared at our escort.

"I, myself, received the information only few moments ago. That quite much is the reason why I was late."

"You do realize that while you were out there chit-chatting with I don't know who, we could have said our goodbyes, right?" Now I stopped too and snapped at her angrily. Lasconca proved to be more strong than I gave her credit for and grabbed my shoulder firmly, digging her long nails into my skin. My nerves were stroke by a slight wave of pain and I had to put my best effort not to flinch.

"As far as I'm informed, you willing signed up for this. From now on, you two will shut your mouth and learn to be quiet. Didn't anyone tell you that the Capitol holds power over the entire process of the Hunger Games? When Capitol wants someone to be dead, that said someone has no chance in the games even if they were trained killers. We wouldn't want if somebody, anonymously, mentioned your rebellious attitude, now would we?" Lasconca was now glaring daggers into my face.

"Is that a threat?" I remembered not to let my weakness show and stood up straight, glaring back to the escort's violet eyes hidden under fake red eyelashes. Her response was a sonorous laugh that would echo in my ears for a long time.

"A mere warning, dearie. Mere warning."

* * *

_Ozan Balik, Turkey_

I was frankly scared. I didn't try to hide it and I could see that everyone has been noticing it. After the escort announced that we will not be able to see our families before we leave, all I wanted to do was to hide in the corner, burry my face in my hands and cry. My district partner looked quite similar as I did, only with the exception that she volunteered. Ayla, my district partner, screamed her name after the escort reaped a girl named Amira something. I tought that once the crowd made space that I will encounter a face of some mature tall and muscular woman, but instead, my gaze met the small eyes of a thirteen years old Ayla Acksoy, small slender girl who looked like she wouldn't hurt a fly. Naturally everyone stayed surprised, including me, but as I saw that Amira, the reaped girl, screaming in tears and telling Ayla not to do it, I figured they must be sisters or best friends and that Ayla sacrificed herself for that older girl.

We were now standing on a train platform, waiting for the large train to come. Our escort has explained to us that this train is a high-tech invention brought all the way from Canada, the Capitol. It is supposed to transport us through the desert, through the sea and eventually through the city. When I thought about it, it was actually a smart idea. If we wanted to travel the usual way, we would firstly have to take train to the airport, then travel with the plan for few hours across the sea and then take another train or autobus to the main city of Canada. A train that will get us there straightly seemed as much more comfortable option.

"Do you think there will be food in the train? I'm starving. I fell asleep in the morning and I had to hurry to the square so that I didn't miss the Reapings. There was no time for breakfast." Thin voice dragged me away from my thoughts and I looked at the dark head of Ayla's small figure.

"I'm sure they will. It is quite a long way to Canada and I don't think they would want us to starve." She chuckled and I smiled at her. I was glad she started a conversation, it was surely better than just drown in the constant flow of my mind.

"You know, it was quite a brave thing of you to volunteer like that for your sister." I said softly and looked at her.

"She is not my sister. A best friend." She corrected me and her face lightened at the mention of her best friend. I nodded my head, encouraging her to continue.

"Her name is Amira and she is the sweetest girl you would ever meet. She's kind-hearted and she was always extremely protective of me, she never allowed anyone to hurt me. When I heard her name being reaped, I couldn't stand there and watch her walk over to that platform. It was my chance to finally do something for her."

"I hope she was worth it." Back at my village, I didn't have many friends, and if I did, it was more of a shallow friendship. I never got attached to any friend like that and I was glad. I couldn't imagine what I would do if someone close to me got reaped, but knowing myself, I would never have the courage to volunteer for them.

"She was." Ayla replied with smile. I could see in her that she was scared of all this, but I could also see a determination and some sort of certainty that she did the right thing.

* * *

_Kiano Wambua Thabiti, Kenya_

I was sitting in the train, facing the smiling face of Adiah Arzu, my female district partner. Since we walked away from the huge crowd, she was quietly observing the arena, not speaking any word and always wearing the wide sweet smile on her lips. I don't know whom she wanted to fool, but she was certainly not getting under my skin. Something about her just didn't feel right. Her kind smile and humble posture appeared to me as one great mask, hiding the true self behind it. I made a quick note to myself not to underestimate her. I have a feeling that there's much more to her than she lets show.

I turn my head as I hear loud footsteps behind me and I notice it's our escort Ibram Sekel. I heard about that guy before. He originally grew up in the Kenya and then, by some mysterious way, he travelled to Canada and searched for a job. It is said that before he was promoted on an escort, he used to clean toilets in mansions of rich people. One way or another, now he's wealthy and successful and there is no sign of the boy who grew up in Kenya. He wears blue monstrous wigs, violet lipstick and matching eye shadows and golden suits that cost more than I can count.

"Kids, how are you doing so far?" Even though he's now a full-blooded, hundred percent Capitolan, he still has that African accent in his voice.

"Quite well." Adiah replied him with smile on her lips and Ibram seated himself on the chair between us.

"Now, I was charged with keeping an eye on you two. Is everything up to your liking?" As Adiah opened her mouth to probably say more sweet words to him, I raised my hand and spoke firmly.

"You promised to enlighten us about the following proceedings."

"Right, silly me. As we get out of this train, which will be in seven hours or so, you will meet your sponsors and then you will get prepared."

"Prepared for what?"

"Why the annual party, of course." Ibram exclaimed and clapped his hands in excitement.

"A party? Are you serious?" I thought I misheard him. We are about to soon face the next 46 tributes who will be put in the arena together with us with the purpose of killing us. If we want to survive we will either have to be extremely quick or also force ourselves into killing other tributes. And Canadians want to have a party?! If I wasn't in this situation, I would laugh at it. Honestly, I would laugh.

"Now don't be a sour face. This party is a must and it will also serve as your best opportunity for surviving in the arena. Everyone who means something will be there and that means that future sponsors will be there. In other words, play nice and they will like you. Do otherwise, and well, I think you know what happens." Ibram stated and I nodded my head. If they wanted me to be nice and sweet, I could do it. After all, my dearest district partner has already took a hold of that role, so why couldn't I do the same.

* * *

**AN: Review means love and more reviews mean faster update ^^**

_\- How did you like this chapter?_

_\- What do you think about Layla?_

_\- What do you think about Ozan?_

_\- What do you think about Kiano?_

_\- Any ideas for the arena?_


	6. Meeting Sponsors: South America

**AN: Yay, another chapter! Don't get too excited, once my school starts, the updating will get more slow and less frequent, but as long as I'm home, i will try to write as much as I can :) Enjoy!**

* * *

_Neymar Santos, Brazil_

When the escort told us that we have arrived, I didn't know what to expect. My district partner was asleep and the Peacekeeper had to shake with her several times until she finally woke up. She had tanned skin and curvy build, her ebony black hair tied in braid were now lazily resting on her right shoulder. Iara, that was her name, jumped from the large sofa she was resting on, throwing the woolen blanket on the floor and quickly stepping to the window. I told myself not to go, but in the end, my curiosity won over me and I found myself staring from the large glass window at the colorful faces of Canadian people. They were excited, cheering. I noticed their outrageous sense of style and fashion. It seems common for them to tattoo and dye their bodies in extravagant bright colors, as well as undergo plastic surgery to alter their appearances. I didn't have to look at them twice to know that those people don't have a single bone in their body that wasn't medically fixed.

"It's quite different than you see in the television." Iara spoke when she turned her gaze on me. Even in her still sleepy mode, she was beautiful. Her hands were currently occupied by fixing her braid of thick elegant hair.

"You watch this in the television?" I asked her amazed. It is an unsaid rule that the states are not obligated to watch the parties, trainings and all of the pre-arena stuff. Only the real Hunger Games, shots and images from the arena, broadcasted on the television were obligatory.

"You don't?" I shook my head at her question and she moved her head back to the view.

"It has always striked me as interesting. You see, in Canada is a completely different life than in other states. Sometimes it appears to me as if Canada was from a different planet, something distant and unreachable. It is quite difficult for me to imagine all those people living similar lives as we do." I was taken aback by her honesty. But in the end, she basically expressed what I've been thinking about. The Canadians appeared to me like puppets, an audience thrilled to watch our suffering and our pain. It was morbid and cruel.

"I wonder what they would do if they were the ones placed in the arena." I hissed, looking through the window. Iara softly elbowed me and pointed at the Peacekeepers. I understood the message. The Peacekeepers, even though they act like shadows, always listen to us and their ears are specified for recognizing even the smallest hint of rebellion. I scoffed. Like there was something they could do to me.

"And what are they going to do? Kill me? Been there, done that." It sounded melancholic and pessimistic, but I didn't want to get my hopes too high. I was fast and strong, I think I could stand a fight if it came to it, but I knew that there will be kids more deadly and willing to kill at any opportunity.

"You're not dead yet." Iara noted and gave me a supportive smile. I give credit to this girl for the kindness, but she seemed a bit naïve to him. She looked like one of those tributes who would trust the wrong person and that would in the end kill them. But perhaps, this girl will surprise me.

* * *

_Lazarillo Puñal, Colombia_

I looked at the chubby small girl who introduced herself as Paula. She has been quiet during the entire train ride and she even refused each of my attempt to start a conversation. So when I wanted a company, the escort was the only one willing to talk to me. At first I was quite skeptical talking to the ebony haired woman with pale make-up on her face, but she turned out to be a pretty great companion. Her name was April and she was telling me all of the stories from the times when she was little and lived with her large family in a peaceful cottage, not far from the Capitol. She couldn't be much older than me, maybe three or four years older, so it was easy for me to talk to her. Unlike most of the escorts, who speak with fake accent, dress in a ridiculous fancy clothes and jump from excitement even at a pile of bread, April seemed really natural to me. The only Canadian thing about her was the pale make-up and overly extravagant red necklace. I silently thanked the god for having an escort like her.

Now we were already in the Capitol and we were waiting for the elevator. All of the tributes from North America were already here and I even think I spotted one tribute pair from Europe. April was silently humming some song that was unknown to me and Paula, the small 14 years old female tribute, casually leaned against the wall, looking around the room.

When the elevator finally reached us, the three of us stepped in and April pressed the number 5.

"European tributes are on the first floor, second floor is occupied by Asian tributes, third belongs to African tributes, fourth is for North American tributes, fifth is yours and the last one, sixth, is for Australians." April quickly informed us.

"Isn't it unfair?" Paula, the always silent girl, has finally decided to speak up.

"What should be unfair?" April asked in a kind voice.

"Well, when it comes to European and North American tributes, there are twelve of them sharing a floor, while when it comes to us, African, Asian and Australian tributes, only six tributes are sharing the room." Paula noticed our mixed expressions on our faces and shook her head.

"Nevermind."

I was growing more and more confused by this quiet girl and noted to myself that I should observe my fellow tribute partner more.

"And here we are." April said as the elevator reached the fifth floor and I was facing the overly large hall with four sofas and one huge television.

"This is a common room, feel free to spend your free time here or rest or whatever. Also, this is the place where you will be watching the scores."

"Just us, or the entire floor?" I asked, interested.

"The entire floor." April replied honestly and lead us to a double metallic door, that opened once she pressed a tiny card inside of it.

"This will be your apartment for the following…days. Both of you have your cards in your separate rooms, so you can come and go as you please. Well, almost. The curfew is at 11 p.m., but since you will be getting up early in the morning, I think it would be wiser if you went to sleep earlier." April placed few strands of her raven hair behind her ear and looked at us.

"Why don't you leave the advices to me, April?" New voice, unknown to both, me and Paula, sounded from behind me. I turned to meet the gaze of tall, dark-skinned man with green sly eyes and cocky smirk on his lips.

"Quentin. Nice to see you again." She greeted him with smile and turned to us.

"Lazarillo, Paula, this is Quentin Martinez, your mentor. Quentin, these are your tributes." She introduced us and we quickly shook hands with Quentin. April clapped her hands loudly and turned to all of us.

"Alright, now when I introduced you, I have to go. Duty calls. I'll see you at the dinner." April quickly waved at us and left the room. As the door clicked behind her, I found myself quite disappointed that she left. She was the only person I could talk to, but then again, I guess I needed this session with my so called mentor. At least I hope he will tell us something useful. I heard that many mentors like to slack off and barely help their tributes. I hope this was not the case.

* * *

_Noelle Nottingham, Argentina_

I sit quietly in the large room, observing the place. This apartment is styled in green and yellow color and it appears calm and peaceful. The furniture is designed in elegant clean style and the accessories are plain and simple.

I tilt my head back, resting it on the seat back, feeling the curls of my hair tickling my neck. I was always proud on my blonde wild mane, it made me look like a small lion. Pretty, but dangerous. I hear our two mentors coming from the hall, however I can't bring myself to raise my head. I could fall asleep right now and never return from the land of the dreams.

"My name is Hestia Suave, this is José Annaud, we are going to be your mentors this year." Strict and firm voice stated as they were approaching me and my district partner. I looked up to see two tall figures, one with long brown hair, extremely muscular and curvy and the other one with short spiky black hair and overly tanned body. They both seated in front of us and the muscular woman, Hestia, was holding some papers in her both hands.

"I would like you two to tell us about yourself, say anything that could be useful, leave nothing out." I could already tell that Hestia came prepared for this job. While she was sitting with her back straight and her gaze cold, her mentor partner José, was casually leaned against the sofa, observing the greenish pillow next to him.

"I am Noelle Nottingham and I live in Córdoba." I started as I saw that my district partner does not want to share his private life with these two people. Hestia only nodded her head and I took it as a sign of encouragement and I continued.

"I volunteered, so that I don't have to be around my family who have been mentally abusing me since I can remember." I spoke softly. Even the fact that I could speak about it was a big deal for me and if these two people were not my only chance at winning, I would never willingly admit it.

"Great, sad and tragic story, that should gain you sympathy." Hestia quickly wrote something into her black notepad.

"I would rather not kill anyone." I added and Hestia wrote again some note.

"My biggest strength is running and general survival skills."

"Good, we can work with that. How about you?" Hestia turned at my quiet and tall district partner, who seemed quite uninterested in this entire situation.

"I can do fine by my own, thanks." He spat sarcastically and stood up, walking towards his room, leaving all of us surprised. I was quite disappointed, he seemed pretty skilled and capable of fight and I was planning on forming an alliance with him. His 'all by myself' statement ruined by plans a little bit.

"Well, at least we can pay more attention to you." Hestia offered me a sweet smile and I returned it. Who knows, maybe I have a chance at winning after all. And Hestia was right, my story, no matter how hard it is for me, will be a great advantage for me.

* * *

**AN: Please read and review! You sent your tributes to me and I'm trying my best to portray them as you imagined, but if there is something that shouldn't be there or if the characters are not acting the way they are supposed to act, please do tell me. **

Aaand it's time for review questions:

\- How did you like each tribute?

\- Do you have any ideas for the arena twist?

\- What would you like to see in my story- more romance, more adventure, more suspense...?


	7. Party in the Canada: North America

AN: ATTENTION! I know that many of you wanted to submit a tribute to this SYOT, but unfortunetly all spots were taken, so I decided to make another SYOT, you can check it out on my profile and submit a tribute. I just want all of you to be content and since I've been getting many PM's even after I closed submissions for this SYOT, I decided for this :)

As for the chapter, I hope you will enjoy it, the next three chapters are going to be from the trainings and those three chapters will include the POV of every tribute. Also if you have any ideas for the arena, the twist, mutts or anything, put it into review or write me a PM. We are slowly getting to the arena chapters, people. I'm really excited!

* * *

_Samantha Berkins, California_

I glanced in the mirror at my own reflection and my lips curled into a vain smirk in satisfaction. My tanned body was slender with curves on the right places, my straight dark brown hair with dips dyed blue were casually resting on my chest and my deep opaque green eyes were highlighted by thick layer of black mascara. I must have admitted that the stylist made quite a job on me. I was different, yet I looked naturally and healthy. If the sponsors won't get attracted by my volunteering, then I'm sure my appearance will do the work. I was wearing a cocktail dress, green like a bright emerald, with V neck and long laced sleeves. The dress ended few inches above my knees and my feet were elegantly placed in high silver pumps. I could barely walk in them, but at least they made my legs look longer and sexier, which will surely attract the possible sponsors. After all, this entire party is held with the purpose of finding sponsors. Personally, I think it's the best way- we get to talk to our future sponsors and they will have at least a slight image about who we are.

Suddenly the door to my room opened with a loud bump and I turned my head to see Calder, my district partner.

"Samantha, Stacia asked me to tell you to get your ass in the hall. The party starts soon." Stacia was an extremely annoying escort assigned to us. In my entire life, I have never seen anyone so pesky and I've met lot of people. Seriously, the scale of stupidity goes like this: Okay, not okay, slightly annoying, annoying, extremely annoying, Stacia Lange.

"Give me a minute." I told him and turned back to the mirror. I heard to door closing as Calder was leaving the room. When I think about it, I had quite fine district partner. We've exchanged only several words, but I could see that he's just like me. He volunteered with the intention of winning and he has a way with words just as I do. I can already see him as a potential ally, but unfortunately, also a threat.

My plans for the arena are simple- find strong tributes for my alliance, stick to them during the bloodbath and further, and then with their help kill off the minor, weaker tributes. Of course, since I plan to win this game, I will have to come up with an idea on how to get rid of my supposed strong allies. Well, at least I still have few days to figure that out. I could kill them in their sleep for example. It's sly and vicious, but which victor was known for being kind and honorable? Well, maybe there were few, but I'm sure that there are more of those who used their cunningness to get out of the games alive. And that's exactly what I'm going to do.

"Samantha!" Ah here it is. The overly high pitched voice belonging to Stacie Lange, that I so longed for.

"I'm coming!" I screamed back and grabbed my flittered silver leaf bag, closing the door behind me as I left my room. My rounded eyes met the cold gaze of our escort and I simply pulled out the sweetest smile that I could in that exact moment.

"Shall we?" I asked nonchalantly, which earned me a smirk from Calder and nasty glare from Stacia.

* * *

_Paris Vega, Las Vegas_

I shifted nervously under my tight red dress. They were too short and exposed too much, and instead of feeling confident and beautiful, I felt like I was naked in front of all these people. We were in a large hall, where you could find four groups of people. First one were the sponsors- they were all styled extravagantly, but in calm colors, nothing neon or way too out of line. They were the loudest one, trying to talk to everyone they approached. The second group were the escorts- they were the most extravagant ones, styled in screaming colors, awful combinations, overly large accessories and such. They were the wannabies, trying to impress others with their appearance. Third group consisted of the mentors, the past victors. They were formally clothed, but they wore the type of clothes that could be worn even outside of the Canada. And last, but not least- us. The tributes. We were the highlight of the evening and I could see why. Each of the girls looked like goddesses, even the smaller and younger ones looked like they are having a break from a modeling shooting and each of the guys were dressed up in either suits or tuxedos, looking elegant and luxurious.

With my blue hair and purple highlights, I was surely standing out, even though I tried to be as invisible as possible. It's not that I don't like to be around people, I just don't like to be around these people. These are the people responsible for the fact that we are all going into an arena where 47 of us are going to die and now they expect me to go around kissing their ass? I'm generally nice and friendly person, I will show my kindness to those that deserve it. And these preppy, styled in expensive clothes and martini drinking people? They sure as hell didn't deserve any of my good nature.

"Hey!" I turn around to find the source of the voice that called me. My eyes meet the sight of Loren, my district partner. My lips curve into a friendly smile and I wave at him.

"Hi there." I respond and he approaches me with drink in his hand. He motions at the glass in his hand, offering me one, but I shake my head refusingly.

"No, thanks. I don't drink." I reply honestly and lean against the cold wall.

"Enjoying yourself so far?" He asks me and takes a sip from his drink. I chuckle loudly and cover my mouth with my perfectly manicured hand.

"Right. Being in a dress that are two size smaller than I actually am, and dozens of men unable to keep their eyes off my chest, that surely is a dream come true." I joke and Loren laughs at my comment.

"And how about yourself? It seems that the lovely woman in yellow is eyeing you the entire time we speak. No, don't look." I quickly said when he attempted to turn around.

"Is she pretty?" He asks me and I look over his shoulder to observe the lady closer. When my gaze fell on her, I had to suppress my laugh.

"Does inner beauty count for you?" The lady wore tight yellow dress, beige cardigan lazily placed over her shoulder and her feet were decorated by beige pointed high-heels. The entire look would appear quite nice if someone else wore it. This lady however looked like she was present during the origin of our planet and survived the dinosaurs. If her age was not repellent enough, then her false attempts to stop aging surely were. Her lips were full from botox and her cheekbones looked like they were done by some amateur plastical surgeon. On the top of that, she consisted of merely bones and skin.

"Christ sake! I never knew someone could live that long." Loren exclaimed once he turned to see his new groupie. I couldn't hold it any longer and had to laugh at his reaction. In that exact moment, I was glad that he was there with me. I really needed someone to boost up my mood and someone to talk to in this mad house.

* * *

_Natalie Wilson, New York_

I am fourteen years old, but when I met my reflection in the mirror, I barely recognized myself. I looked at least three years older and instead of my usual girly appearance, I looked hot. My head was nodding at every word some random Canadian in front of me said, but my gaze was fixed upon the mirror. I had bright red provocative lipstick, black blaizer placed over my golden top, tight black skirt that went to the middle of my tights and golden flats. My stylist was insisting on putting high-heels on me, but after he saw me walking in them, his decision quickly changed.

"So, tell me darling. Why should you be the one that I should sponsor?" This question caught my interest and I smiled slyly, prepared for this question.

"That is up to you to decide. But I will tell you why I would want you to sponsor me." I replied with a mysterious tone in my voice.

"I'm listening." The Canadian man seemed quite interested at what I have to say.

"If I won, it would mean that I would get the opportunity to meet your charming personality and handsome appearance again." Liar, liar, pants on fire. I often tried to put some truth in my lies, but the previous sentence that left my red lips was filled with entirely pure lies. Nevertheless, it seemed to do the effect. The man in front of me smiled widely, looking more than pleased with my answer. He was quite interesting, I have to give him credit for that. He had long blue hair and eyebrows dyed in the same color, short chubby figure and reddish thick beard. The North America is outrageous country enough, but you can't say that you've experienced extravagance until you've seen or met a Canadian.

"Is that so, sweetheart?" Ugh, he was disgusting. I could see his chest rising and falling, his beige dotted shirt wet from sweat and his expensive silver suit dirty from a spilled red wine. His breath smelled after cigarettes and alcohol.

"Mhm." I nodded my head, forcing a smile. He poured me another drink and since I had to play along, I accept it with fake sweet gratitude. I've never really drank before, not outside the family circle at all. I took a sip from champaigne at the New Year's Eve or during family birthdays, but otherwise, I did not seek drinking. I didn't even enjoy the taste of it, it was too bitter for my liking.

After another few minutes of listening to his babbling, I excused myself, saying that I have to go to toilet. I must say, getting away from that sweaty alcohol smell brought a great wave of relief to me. I made my way to the ladies and found there tribute girl, probably from Europe, but as hard as I tried, I couldn't remember her name. She was older, taller and surely prettier than me. I don't think that she has to sit next to old chubby men to gain sponsors. Her skin was pale and her hair was straight blonde, so I assumed she was either from Sweden or from Russia.

"I'm Valeriya. Ne nuzhno smotreť tak mnogo. " The blonde one said, without turning her gaze away from the mirror.

"Pardon me?" I asked her, not knowing whether I misheard her or whether the comment was not meant for me. Valeriya looked at me and laughed sonorously, but it was not the kind of mocking laugh, it was more like a playful laugh that mother gives to her child.

"I said, it's not necessary to stare so much." She repeated in quiet chuckle, now in english. I heard that some of the other states maintain their original language and even use it at home, but I didn't think it was allowed in here. Probably not, but this Russian girl seemed like she didn't care about that.

"I'm Natalie, from New York." I stated with pride and extended my hand. She shook it firmly and gave me a charming smile.

"Priyatno poznakomiť sya. It's nice to meet you." She replied in both languages and I couldn't help but smile. It was nice to hear other language than English, even though I didn't understand it at all.

* * *

_Matthew Williams, Los Angeles_

I was not sure why everyone was so excited about this party. It was nothing special or extraordinary. If anyone asks me, I see it as rather pathetic. Capitol put us here and now it basically thinks that we are their pawns, their source of entertainment, they think they can do anything with us and the worst part is that they actually can. We are nothing but mere dolls put here to dance around in fancy clothes and then show our brutality and thirst for blood in the arena- well, at least that's how everyone imagines it. Capitolans are mostly watching the games only because of one specific group of people that occurs every year- careers. Careers, I have no idea where that nickname came from, are a certain group of people who are either well-built and muscular or great with weapons. Sometimes it's both. One way or another, these individuals who have the biggest chances at survival form into an alliance, agreeing on hunting down the weaker tributes and then splitting up, fighting with each other for the victory. It's a boring scenario, but it was proven that such strategy works, seeing as the 'careerish' people were most of the times the ones who in the end hold the crown.

"Mind if I join you?" Childlish voice asked me and I turned around to see small boy in light blue tuxedo staring at me. I gave him a quick nod and tried to remember him from the Reapings however I was without success, but that didn't appear as a problem since the little boy was already introducing himself.

"I'm Noah from Fiji." He revealed his state with more pride than I've ever heard anyone say.

"I'm Matthew from L.A." I used the short version of my country, because if I was to say 'Los Angeles' to every person I met, my tongue would have fallen out already.

I waited patiently for the boy to say something else, but he merely stood there, looking into space with his big hazel eyes. I felt the need to start up the conversation again, because let's be honest- two young boys standing in the corner silently looking into space, that's just creepy.

"How old are you?" I asked him after a long pause that could be described as the awkward silence.

"10. Yeah, lowest age and lowest chance of survival." I was surprised by his words, but what striked me most was the way he said it. He didn't state it in the depressive kind of voice or in the 'I'm little, so pity me' voice. It was more like a statement, like a fact that he grew accustomed with.

"Don't say that. Many times even the weaker tributes have won." I tried to cheer him up. I didn't want this boy, this child who has his entire life before him, to simply give up.

"Let's face it, I'm weak. It's quite probable that I'm the weakest one in here. I can't run, can't climb, I have little knowledge about the outside world and not to mention I can't even lift a weapon. But that's fine. I will die, but I'm going to make them remember me." Noah said with such a strong determination in his voice that it was almost unbelievable that this boy is only 10 years old. I chuckled, sensing a little plotting.

"What's your plan?" I asked him and Noah stood on his tiptoes, whispering his plan into my ear.

* * *

_Jonathan Alder, Mexico_

Trying to impress the sponsors seemed to be a bigger challenge than I expected. When I approached any potential sponsor, it got little bit awkward. While my mind had already created charming and impressive response, my mouth suddenly decided to spill out something offensive and inappropriate. But in the end I found out that my muscular figure and handsome boyish appearance sufficed from wooing the Capitolans. As I figured out earlier, female part of tributes were engaged in conversations with male Capitolan and vice versa. I wasn't surprised at all, to be frank. The preppy moneyed Capitolans weren't interested in our personality or character, they wanted to see strong and beautiful people determinated to win.

I decided that I had enough of the prissy people who had everything they desired and walked over to a dark-skinned girl who wore golden sleeveless gown and looked as if she was lost. Looking at her was quite intimidating; I could see that her beauticians made fine work on her.

"It's quite depressing to be standing in here all by yourself. Aren't there sponsors you need to impress?" I asked her nonchalantly, looking into space.

"Right, that's my dream come true. Kissing ass to the ones that put us here." She replied sarcastically and I couldn't help but chuckle at her response.

"I'm Jon." I introduced myself, smiling sheepishly.

"North America?" She asked me, raising one eyebrow.

"Am I that obvious?" I joked and her still face finally broke into a smile.

"Kind of. I'm Layla." She offered me hand and I firmly shook it. I could see myself allying with this girl. She seemed strong, capable of fight and if I remember correctly, she's one of the few volunteers. I, myself planned on forming a strong alliance, maybe even possibly a career one. Every year there's a strong alliance, Capitolans like to call them careers, and my plan was to be part of that alliance. I knew that my strength will not suffice if I will be alone, possibly weaponless and someone armed comes at be, I might not have the chance of survival. And I want to survive. Even if I did not voluntarily signed up for this thing, I am here and winning in the arena is now my only goal.

"You know, I think we would work quite well as allies." I offered and she smirked at me slyly.

"Hang on. We'll see how you handle the training." Feisty. I laughed in her direction and disappeared to a crowd of colorful wigs.

* * *

_Mitchell Henry Christiansen, Hawaii_

I was leaning against the reddish wall alone, observing the room as well as people in it. I couldn't help but think about what Rose, my girlfriend, would say to all this gloss. She would probably see this situation as another shallow event held by the Capitolans, but I can bet she would enjoy all those nice food and dress. Those are the only two thing that I can't complain about. The food is fresh, delicious and always enough. It's something that I wasn't used to before.

I remember all those shocked and confused expressions on people's faces when I volunteered as a tribute. I didn't blame them, though. Those people didn't know me and to most of them I was just another pretty face to look at. They weren't there when our family went on a trip with a boat, excited to spend some time together, only to find out few hours later that it was the worst day of our lives. And for some, it was the last day. It happened long time ago, but I can still hear my twin sister's screams as she tried to grab on something when she fell into the water and I was unable to help her because my left leg got stuck under a heavy piece of wood. I can still see my father mourning over the corpse of my mum, begging her not to leave him. I still remember the day my father grabbed bottle of alcohol and quickly found comfort in it. When I think about it, the basis of memories is quite interesting. I can remember my abusive alcoholic father, I can remember all those times when he tried to throw a chair or beat up my little sister Kaitlyn just because she resembled him of our mother, yet when I try to think about Annabelle, my twin sister, or the soft features of my mum, my vision is blurry. Sometimes I catch myself not remembering what she looked like anymore. I tend to keep at least one photo always with me, in case that happens.

No one really understood my situation. Well, except maybe for my girlfriend and my two best friends, even though they too don't know the entire story. I don't think it's important for other people to know entirely everything about you. It takes away all the mystery.

I winked at the lady with golden blonde hair wrapped up in high bun, decorated with little red jewelry hearts in her bun. She was ogling me the entire time; I spent pondering about my life. I wasn't intending to do more than few sweet words and occasional smiles and winks for these Canadian spoiled women. I knew what is sufficient to get enough sponsors and I won't go beyond that border. I am staying loyal to Rose, but those wealthy citizens don't need to know about that. I would describe my entire façade with sentence: "You can look, but don't touch." I will charm them, comprise them with attention, give them enough to remember me by and the gifts in the arena will be arriving one by one.

* * *

AN: As usual, please review this story. If I wrote your character too ooc, please let me know and I will try to improve. Each review means a world to me, so please share your opinions with me. Enjoy.

\- How did you like each character, who stood out most and who didn't strike as much interesting?

\- Anything specific that you would like to read in my story?

\- I was wondering about including something from the supernatural world in the story. Perhaps each tribute could receive a supernatural ability? Or maybe werewolves as mutts? Tell me what you think.


	8. Sweet dreams: Australia and Oceania

**AN: Another chapter, finally! Now this is the very last chapter before the Trainings, the next three chapters will be focusing on the days of training and it will be featuring all of the characters. Basically you will see 16 character's POV in each chapter, so I hope you're excited, because I am. Training days are my favourite part from the 'Before Hunger Games' section, so I'm really looking forward to it. I still haven't figured out the alliances and romances in this story, so I will have to write those down so that I won't get lost. Naturally in the next chapters you will see a lot of interactions between the tributes, possible love interest, possible allies and even possible enemies. **

**As for this chapter, I'm only going to say that I am not entirely content with it, but I really wanted to give you a chapter to read. My slow updating shall be excused by the load of latest exams and school projects. Thank you all for patience, you are the best.**

* * *

_Vera Bellevue, Australia_

Finally it was over. It seemed that no one from the Capitol cared about the fact that most of the tributes were still under age and staying up until midnight because of party, was not something we were used to. At least not me. I am eleven and the latest hour I've ever been up till, was half past ten and only because I had to wait for my mother to come back from her part-time job. She works as a maid in the mayor's house, while my father is all day gone working, doing I don't know what. But I'm used to the situation at home, after all, it's the only thing I have left.

"Vera?" I heard soft voice from behind my back and I turned around to see to who belongs that voice. I met the greenish gaze of my stylist, Martin. His swarthy skin contrasted with bright white clothes and his face showed concern for me. I tried to enchant the warmest smile on my face to reassure him that I'm alright.

"Yes?"

"I will be leaving shortly; I was wondering whether you needed anything." I was at least a head shorter than him, therefore I had to really tilt my head to have a proper view on him. It was apparent that he's tired just as well as I am. My district partner had already gone to bed and the escort excused herself to bathroom, therefore, not counting my beautician, I was the only person left in this large living room, covered with sky blue blankets and pillows. It was meant to resemble the sea our country was surrounded with however to me it looked like unavailing joke.

"Could you help me with my make-up?" I asked him circling with my index finger around my face, pointing at the flawless make-up that was decorating my face.

"Of course I can." He nodded his head and I sat on the large sofa, crossing my legs under me and resting my hands next to my hips peacefully. Martin sat beside me and placed his blackish case on the table in front of us. He picked up small bottle of clear water and poured some on piece of cotton. Then with slow smooth moves he started removing the light make-up from my face.

"Do you think I made impression?" I asked quietly, even though I knew that I didn't. There were other 47, much more interesting tributes than eleven year's old girl with short pitch black hair and scarred face. But I didn't want to hear that. I wanted to hear a comforting lie that would assure me that I had at least slight chance, that someone maybe will support me while I'll fight for life in the deadly arena.

"I'm sure you did." He replied in comforting voice. I closed my eyes, so that he could remove the black mascara from my eyelashes. When I opened my eyes, I glanced to my right side at the pocket mirror and I was myself again. The long scar travelling from my cheek all the way to my neck was now showing off again, making me wonder whether that made me look dangerous or weak. I hoped for the first alternative.

* * *

_Kauri Pintoln, New Zealand_

I wasn't sure what to think. The party was over and my head felt heavy from the make-up I've received from my so called beauticians. As much as I resisted, they insisted on putting powder on my cheeks and that's the reason why I'm not bending over the sink, trying to remove all of the chemicals from my face. I hated this perspective of Capitol, why couldn't they just leave us be? As if it wasn't enough that we had to kill each other for their own sadistic joy and amusement, they had to parade us around like silent puppets that are supposed to silently play their game.

I hear the loud high-pitched voices and laughs from the next door. Our escort, stylist and her assistants, heck even our mentors are now enjoying themselves over late glass of wine. I consider joining them. I despise our entire team, after all they are nothing else than couple of superficial fake and spineless creatures, but I must admit that after this night, I crave some kind of distraction. While my brain screams at me, telling me to go to sleep, I know that if I slipped under the blankets right now, I wouldn't be able to fall asleep, so I do what I will most likely regret in the morning. I put on a shiny and joyful mask on my face, approaching the next room and eventually the long table with the New Zealand's team loudly seated around.

"Look who decided to join us." Pia Hollowbrooke, my district partner, greeted me with smile on her red lips. I must say, I didn't expect to see her there. I didn't interact with her much and when I did, all I got as a response from her was some unnecessary sarcastic and witty comment. I figured that she decided to seek out distraction as well, since I could smell the red wine all over her. Not smart, pouring yourself with alcohol the night before the first day of reapings, I thought, but didn't say out loud. Instead I replied her with smile and quick nod, placing myself on the chair in front of her and on the left side of my main beautician. She seemed a bit disappointed that her consistent work made on my face was gone now, but she didn't scold me for it.

"As I was saying, I really think that the sponsors will remember you after today, you all looked stunningly beautiful." Evanna, our stylist, stated, circling finger around thin strand of her strawberry blonde hair. One would see it as a lovely compliment, but I knew better. Evanna was simply pointing out what a marvelous job she has done on us.

"Thanks to you, Evanna. We couldn't wish for a better stylist, right Kauri?" Pia replied her with pretended gratefulness and overly sweet voice, turning her blonde head at me.

"Of course." I might not have liked Evanna or her ways, but the truth remains that she changed us from ordinary children of sea, to beautiful tributes that cannot be overlooked.

"Oh, stop it." Evanna giggled, gesturing with her right hand at us. I could see that she enjoyed when someone complimented her. The escort, who's name I still cannot remember, offered me wine, but I lifted my hand in refusal. It seemed that here in Capitol everyone was forgetting our real age. No wonder, when they expect us to do things which children shouldn't be supposed to even know of. The night continues like this, compliments, strategies for training, talking about food and all the small chit chat. Eventually I excuse myself, entering my very own room with cool air conditioning. I jump into my bed, burying my face into fresh pillow that smelled of roses and lilies. My eyelids start feeling heavy and I find myself closing my eyes, while my thoughts drift away to the image of tomorrow.

* * *

_Isabella Hugget, Fiji_

It takes me over half an hour till I finally remove all of the bobby pins from my complicated hairstyle, strands of my hair falling down on my shoulders with each pin I take out. My head hurts and curly raven black hair are now resting in unnatural position, deformed from being in a tight bun the entire evening and night. I actually tried to impress the Capitolans, back at the party. I was starting the conversations, throwing smiles and waves at them, but it seemed that everyone had already found their favorite. It made it quite difficult for me to associate with any potential sponsor and therefore I ended up sitting on a high chair with non-alcoholic drink in my hand, observing others and after an hour or so, I even started talking with the waiters and barmen.

_"You know, this is the first time I actually saw you resting." I spoke to the dark-skinned barman who didn't stop the entire evening. He was always fulfilling someone's wish or listening to the Capitolan's snarky comments. Now he was sitting quietly, observing the situation. Pretty much what I was doing until now. He lifted his gaze to my direction and offered me a brief smile._

_"You know, you are the first person to start a conversation with me that doesn't begin with 'I want…' or 'Bring me…'." I chuckled at his comment and extended my hand._

_"I'm Isabella. Fiji." I introduced myself, stating my country with pride. He shook my hand lightly, bending over the counter to reach me._

_"I'm Alaric. The only person who isn't an Avox in here." I never heard much about Avoxes before, only that they were servants of Capitol, rebels that were punished by having their tongue cut out. It was quite painful to even imagine it._

_"What does it feel like?" I asked, not caring that I was probably not being the most polite person right now, but Alaric didn't seem to mind it and answered my question honestly._

_"Frankly, it's a tad depressing. Whatever these people have done, they don't deserve what the Capitol has done to them. But don't say I told you that. Canada is pretty strict about any sign of possible rebellion." I nodded my head, understandingly._

I now saw that Canada has no mercy with anyone, not even with people of their own. I knew that us, the states and countries, are under Canada's influence and therefore we are not safe, but I always thought that once you live in Canada, you have everything and there's no reason to be afraid. I can't believe I was wrong all this time. Call me naïve, but I always consoled myself with the thought that somewhere, there are people who don't need to feel in constant fear, who can live their lives without worries or doubts. But while the Capitolans don't need to be afraid about being chosen for the Hunger Games, they weren't safe before the government either. No one was safe from them and that's probably what scared me most.

* * *

**AN: As usual, I crave your opinion and ideas, so please express them in reviews! :)**

**\- Who was your favourite from this part?**

**\- Who is your favorite overall?**

**\- Any ideas, improvements that this story needs?**

**\- What type of arena would you like to see mostly?**


End file.
